


Golden Gifts

by ItsClydeBitches



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Decorating, F/M, Fluff, Gifts, Holidays, Jupiter Ascending Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: With the holidays sneaking up on Jupiter, she's surprised by a decorating session with the Apinis and then a gift from Caine... surprised, but hardly upset.
Relationships: Jupiter Jones/Caine Wise
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Golden Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Belligerentbagel for the Jupiter Ascending Secret Santa exchange! Prompt was "Excess, exuberance, warmth, spiced cider." I hope you enjoy this! <3

“Human beings aren’t meant to learn like this.”

“Your Majesty, I’m pretty sure human beings aren’t meant to learn during a holiday, period.”

With a wry smile Jupiter sat back against the couch cushions, nudging her book aside with a socked toe. Fair enough. Jupiter had always known she wasn’t meant for a traditional education, but siphoning off a portion of her newfound wealth as a “scholarship” and one GED later, she had finally delved into the hell that was virtual college. The thing about securing an astronomy degree though was that it required all these General Education courses first. The thing about _those_ was that they were a mess of reading, writing, and flashcard making, none of which fit well into a fulltime cleaning job.

Not to mention the whole Space Queen thing.

Jupiter slid further down the couch until her legs were splayed out on the rug, her neck bent awkwardly. “I think,” she told the ceiling, “that I might be overdoing it.”

Stinger’s chuckle sounded from across the room and Jupiter didn’t need to see Kiza’s expression to know it held a severe ‘Told you so.’ School was out for the rest of December and Mom had given her the week off—that alone was proof she was juggling too much. Her favorite aliens had been trying to get her to relax all day, but it was only when she’d hit that last paragraph that Jupiter gave in. She went full noodle and slid until she was lying on the floor, smushed between the couch and the coffee table.

A few seconds later Kiza’s head appeared between the gap, hair swaying. “You alive down there?”

“Hng.”

“What finally killed you?”

Jupiter considered the question. “Honestly? Reading about evolution while knowing that we were ‘seeded’ here, or whatever. That did it. I blew a fuse thinking about how I’m going to have to BS this test.”

Kiza hummed. “Well, your weird species _did_ evolve, just not on this planet. You, however, underwent a genetic reincarnation.”

“…you’re not helping.”

“And the test isn’t until January, so chill with the existential crisis, yeah?”

Kiza reached down a hand and hauled Jupiter to her feet. The room swam for a moment, partly due to a lack of food—when had she eaten last? A bag of Cheerios on the drive over here?—and partly because of all the lights that had somehow appeared between when Jupiter had first sat her butt down on that couch and now. She'd seen plenty of exuberant decorations before, especially in the wealthier houses she'd cleaned, but never like _this_. The Apinis had decked their halls with red, green, blue, white, and what felt distinctly like generic yellow lights, all of them mixed together in headache-inducing patterns. For every string laid carefully across a mantlepiece, there was a balled up cluster placed just as formally on a coffee table, like an exceedingly odd statement piece. Lights flowed down the bare wall across from her, pooling onto the rug. Others had been taped directly to the floor, creating a path to the kitchen. One of them (most likely Kiza) had attempted to form what Jupiter assumed was a wonky menorah out of fairy lights, though it was closer to an abstract piece than not. All of it led directly to the tree, so overburdened with ornaments she feared it would fall straight through to the basement. 

Stinger ran a hand through his hair, radiating embarrassment. "Never was great at this," he muttered. 

"We never celebrated," Kiza clarified, dancing from foot to foot. "Never really felt the need, you know? I might have been born here, but I'm not really _from_ here, and though I'd never pass up the opportunity for an extra present—" 

"Or twenty." 

"The ceremonies surrounding getting them were always a little..." She made a wishy-washy motion with her hand. "Weird? Confusing? Important for you lot, yeah, but we never cared about it before, really. But now you're here! So we should celebrate! Though we didn't know what you celebrated, so..." 

"So you covered all your bases," Jupiter finished. She looked around the room again, this time seeing less mess and more deliberate attempts to cheer her; a collection of religious symbols and an aliens' attempt to re-create culture. Through that lens, the room didn't look half bad and Jupiter felt her chest getting all tingly tight. 

She cleared her throat, ignoring Kiza's cheeky smile. "Funny story, but _I'm_ not sure what we celebrate either. I can tell you that atheist Russian immigrants who moved to Chicago are just as confused as you are, and there was never money for presents, so." Jupiter shrugged, ignoring the old twinge from childhood that ran through her, the hope that she'd wake up some arbitrary morning and find a telescope waiting for her downstairs. No tree. No menorah. No chimney. No bank account for savings, but the hope had existed all the same. Now, she was Queen of the Stars. 

It created a bittersweet taste in the back of her mouth: the endless thrill for what her life had become mixed with sympathy for the girl she'd been. The one who, Jupiter now realized, just wanted something to call her own. Not the material possession. Just all that it meant. 

Some of that must have shown on her face because Kiza rolled her eyes, dragging Jupiter into a quick hug. "You _have_ been working too hard if you're teary-eyed over Dad's monstrosity." 

"The only monstrosity I've created is you," and a calloused hand squeezed the back of Jupiter's neck. 

"Haha. At least I'm prettier than that tree." 

Warmth and the pungent smell of honey. Jupiter couldn't think of anything more comforting. 

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Perhaps some leather, oil, and the soft touch of feathers too. 

"Where's Caine?" She asked, pulling back and taking a not exactly subtle swipe at her eyes. The world cleared enough for her to see the two exchange an equally suspicious glance. 

"Out," Kiza said. She rocked back on her heels. 

"Shopping," Stinger added. 

"... _Shopping?_ " 

The image of her winged and all around alien boyfriend wandering around a space as mundane as the mall briefly short-circuited what was left of Jupiter's mental capacity. She only rebooted when the act slotted in with the decorations and provided some much needed clarification: shopping during the holidays. 

"Oh," she said. "Ohhhh," and Stinger shook his head, returning to the tree where tinsel laid in wait. 

"I knew those books wouldn't keep you that long," he said. "The boy wanted to be back before you realized he was gone. Try to act surprised?" 

It wouldn't be hard. All of this was surprising in one manner or another, so Jupiter just let it wash over her, smiling. She had a gift for Caine too, of course. Something for all of them, though she'd been saving the wrapped packages beneath her bed until Christmas Day, figuring that a bit of secular gift giving never went amiss. She hadn't expected anything in return. Truly. Jupiter already had everything she could ever want between her two families—with a Queen's wealth besides. 

For the second time in as many minutes, one of the Apinis read her mind. 

"He's been panicking about what to get the woman who has everything," Stinger said, tying bits of tinsel to the branches as bows. Kiza cackled like this was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. 

" _Panicking_ ," she emphasized. 

Funny that she hadn't noticed any panicking, but then again... Jupiter's eyes slid to the coffee table, still laden with books, laptop, flashcards, and four different mugs previously filled with coffee. She hadn't exactly been paying attention to much lately. 

"Oh come on. You both know I'm going to love whatever he gets me." 

"We know that, Your Majesty, but—if I may speak plainly—the boy doesn't have two braincells to rub together. Cut him some slack." 

Jupiter snorted. Yeah, she could do that. Whatever it was that Caine had bought—or even talked himself out of buying—she'd reassure him was perfect. Because it already was. Caine just needed to get back home so she could tell him. 

"Gonna give us a hand then?" Kiza asked. She kicked a plastic tub and even more lights and garlands spilled out. 

Absolutely. Jupiter snatched the nearest strand and started decorating a lampshade. Might as well join in the alien, holiday fun. 

***

Four hours later, Jupiter could honestly say that the afternoon had been one of the best in recent memory. They'd pinned and taped until every inch of the living room was covered. Then the kitchen. Then the hall. Soon there wasn't a bit of the downstairs that hadn't been transformed and though Jupiter worried slightly over the Apinis electric bill, she couldn't deny that the overall effect was something to behold. It felt exuberant. Decadent. And pretty strange to boot—which was all that she'd come to expect of her new life. 

Now the sun had set, Stinger and Kiza long gone. With the last ornament hung and the final dreidel slipped into her pocket, they'd bid her a goodnight. Nothing Jupiter had said could dissuade them from leaving their own home past dinner, both just repeating that Caine had planned this for weeks, hoping to give her a private celebration before Jupiter returned to her family. Something small and intimate. As if she was the teenager in danger of misunderstanding, Kiza had gone up on tiptoe to whisper in Jupiter's ear that her _real_ present would be later tonight, so don't worry if you don't like the first one. Jupiter had given her a playful smack on the head and sent them both on their way. 

The house wasn't empty though. Along with enough festive cheer to power a child's fantasy, Jupiter had the ever-present bees that covered the property, their hum a calming balm against any remaining stress. A few had snuck inside, dancing about her head, and Jupiter passed some time just enjoying their company. With her feet now on the empty table and a particularly curious bee balanced on her nose, it occurred to her that Caine had been gone a rather long time. Just six months ago she would have worried for his safety, but now Jupiter chuckled, picturing only the danger to others if his anxiety went through the roof. The shops must be closing by now and somewhere there may have been some poor, overworked employee trying to handle a splice's holiday woes. Honestly, Jupiter would take a recording of _that_ as her gift. 

"What do you think?" she asked the bee, gently scooping her onto a finger. "He should be back soon. How about some hot chocolate?" 

It turned out that despite purchasing every decoration under the sun, Stinger's kitchen didn't have much in the way of festive drinks. No cocoa to speak of, but there were a couple packets of cider hidden in the back of one cupboard, looking as if they might be over a decade old by now. Did powder go bad? Nah. Jupiter hummed as she heated a kettle of water and experimented with the spice rack a bit, trying to give the drink some oomph. She'd just succeeded in something tasty—if heavily doctored—when there was a knock at the door. 

Despite her excitement, Jupiter took a moment to exchange a glance with her new, fuzzy friend. At least, she did the glancing. "Can you believe this nerd knocks?" 

It came again, lighter and a little more hesitant. God she loved this man. 

Splice. Lycantant. Whatever. 

Caine's hand was raised for a third try when Jupiter opened the door, finding him and a bag of Chinese takeout waiting. If there had been snow dusting his hair he might have come straight out of a Hallmark movie, dressed in a festive scarf and hat to hide his ears. He shouldn't have been surprised to see her, given that tonight was apparently his idea, yet Caine's eyes grew wide all the same before settling on something soft. He stared, then dropped into a low bow. 

"Your Majesty." 

"Call me that again and you can turn right around." 

"Jupiter," he tried to correct, but she was already pulling him down by that scarf, tasting the cold air on his lips. Hmm. Maybe it would snow tonight. Good thing she had company to help keep her warm. 

Jupiter only pulled back when the two mugs held in her left hand bumped against Caine's jacket, a bit of the cider spilling over the rim. "Got you something," she said, teasing, wagging the sweet-smelling drinks under his nose. With the tiniest smile Caine followed the scent indoors, but the expression faded when he caught sight of the house. 

"I'll happily shoot them for you," he sighed and Jupiter laughed, putting both drinks and takeout aside. They would keep. 

"No shooting. It's nice, Caine. This whole idea was. Thank you." 

"I wanted them to decorate, not give you a migraine." 

"Why not both?" 

Jupiter tried tugging him further in, intent on ridding Caine of at least some of that clothing and making better use of the couch. He held fast though and not for the first time she was reminded of how inhumanly _strong_ he was. In contrast to that, a gloved finger reached out to tuck a bit of hair behind her ear, ever careful. 

"I shouldn't let your present sit in the car," he said.

A different kind of giddiness filled her then, one that was childish and just this side of selfish too—but wasn't it the right time of year for that? After everything that had happened between them, Jupiter didn't exactly relish in mystery...but she could make an exception for this. 

"What is it?" she begged, poking Caine persistently in the shoulder. His smile widened and that— _that_ —was a beautiful sight to behold. 

One eyebrow rose high into his hair. "I thought the purpose of this ceremony was for you not to know?" 

"And then I _do_ know. Let's get to that part." 

"Now? Isn't it too early?" 

"Oh, but didn't you say this present couldn't stay in the car? And having it just sit in here, taunting me, would be terribly cruel. I _have_ to open it now." 

He joked with her and she joked with him, while all the while Jupiter wondered what was waiting for her. Chocolates, perhaps? Caine certainly wouldn't want them to freeze. Or, similarly, anything that came in a bottle and had the chance to explode. She eyed the two mugs of cider. Perhaps they'd be spicing them with something else soon? Either way, Jupiter assumed it was edible. She couldn't imagine what else Caine had gotten her when food was such an easy gift for them both. 

"You know yours is back at mine, right?" She said as he led her to the door again. Surprise briefly flashed across his eyes and Jupiter shoved him for doubting her. "If I'd known we were celebrating tonight I would have brought it!" 

"Then it wouldn't have been a surprise." 

"Hmm. You make a compelling argument, wolf boy." 

Caine rolled his eyes at the nickname, turning her firmly so Jupiter faced the door. She peeked as soon as he opened it, but all there was to see was the car itself, seemingly endless fields, and a beautiful night of stars. Caine's chest interrupted the view—or improved it—and he ran a cold hand down over her eyes. 

"Surprise," he reminded her and Jupiter tried to hide her laughter with a pout. 

"Alright, alright, just hurry. Patience isn't a virtue your Queen possesses." 

"I've noticed." 

Another gift. Half a year ago Caine wouldn't have dared to insult her, even just as a teasing agreement, but before Jupiter could say so he'd slipped away, boots growing fainter on the porch. There were other sounds then: the car door opening, Caine's voice—too soft to make out words—something that might have been metallic, a rustle of cloth... None of it pieced together into something Jupiter recognized and though she did lean forward, her eyes remained closed. 

"Caine?" 

"A moment, Your Majesty," he said, whatever he was concentrating on causing the slip. "I... I hope you like this. You said once you did, but— _shit!_ " 

Shit?

"Alright, what's going on? I'm opening my—oof!" 

Something slammed into Jupiter's legs and though the hit wasn't particularly strong, she wasn't prepared for it either. Windmilling a moment, she still landed hard on her ass, trying and failing to spot whatever had attacked her. It was just a mess of blond coloring and something sharp against her wrist... until her mind finally recognized the sensation as teeth. 

Tiny, needle-like, _adorable_ teeth. Jupiter scooped the Golden Retriever puppy into her arms, gaping. 

"I—" Caine said. He skid to a halt, looking between the leash in his hand and the scene before him. If he'd been worried Jupiter hoped that her high-pitched squeal was enough to allay any fears. 

" _You got me a puppy?!_ " 

"Yes," he said and that single word conveyed a whole day's worth of stress bleeding out of him. "You said you love dogs." 

"I've always loved dogs." 

Caine smiled. "Right." 

Jupiter held up the squirming mass of joy, falling immediately for the chocolate eyes and floppy ears. A cold nose shoved itself against her cheek and she howled with laughter. "Oh my god, he even smells like a puppy!" 

"...do puppies not normally smell like themselves?" 

"Yes, I mean no. It's just..." Jupiter pressed her nose into the mess of fur, inhaling. "Puppy smell is _everything_. What's his name?" 

"Her." Caine sat down beside them, extending one hand. It was immediately set upon by those chomping teeth. "Fierce isn't she? Like her mother." His eyes sparkled, though Caine's voice shook a bit when he said, "I thought... well. Io? The first of Jupiter's moons that your people discovered. But if you don't like it..." 

That he would fear such a thing astounded her, yet Jupiter loved him all the more for it. The attention paid to even the stupidest things she'd said, a day out scouring who knew how many pet shops, the thought put into her name... all at once Jupiter had to hide her face against Caine's shoulder, Io licking beneath her chin. 

"How much are you going to hate me when I admit I only got you a pair of Doc Martens?" 

She couldn't see the curious tilt of his head, though she knew it was there. "Doc Martens?" 

"Remember the woman whose boots you couldn't stop talking about?" 

Jupiter felt Caine _gasp_ and let out a puff of laughter, thrilled she hadn't entirely messed that up. 

"I don't deserve you," Caine said, lifting her chin. His voice was stupidly soft. 

"Caine. They're boots. You got me a dog. _I_ don't deserve _you_." 

"Hmm. I learned long ago that though I may not agree with royalty, it's not my place to challenge it." 

He kissed her again, languid, and it might have been the most romantic moment of Jupiter's life if Io hadn't been trying to worm her way between them. 

Caine sighed. "It's not too late to return her if you'd prefer a piece of jewelry instead." 

"Don't even joke," she said. No kissing then—for now. Puppies tired easily after all—but Jupiter was more than happy to tuck Io in her lap and lean heavily against Caine, soaking up their warmth in the night air. He leaned into her too. 

"Happy Holidays, Jupiter." 

"Happy Holidays, Caine." 

Behind them the Apinis' gift shown like a beacon and above them the universe waited. It was peaceful, and perfect, which was why Jupiter couldn't help the devilish little thought that wormed its way into her head. 

"Hey. Jupiter's _first_ moon, you said?" 

"Mm." 

"Does that mean I'll eventually get seventy-eight more? 

Caine chuckled, slipping an arm around them both, and Jupiter wished for only one more thing: that she lived a life long enough and blessed enough to share seventy-nine dogs with him. 


End file.
